Your dress arches, falls across a chair-back,
My socks, your underwear are left unreconciled,
confetti scattered pre-parade.

Crumpled bills, some pennies and a quarter from
    an out-turned pocket make a still-life
where they spilled.

From the hallway where a lamp is on
a strand of light that does not punctuate but only
stretches to a wall.

A radio was playing but the frequency has
faded. Cough of static. Words and music fade.
Drift. Are back again.

Lightning shudders at the window. A hollow
belch of thunder as an afterthought. Away.
Away. First drops fall.

I believe you love me,
but what if it rains?